


All the King's Horses

by Nenya85



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! - All Media Types, Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: I think Kaiba would be offended, Kaiba does something reckless, M/M, Prideshipping, So basically business as usual, Yu-Gi-Oh! Pridecember, Yu-Gi-Oh! Pridecember 2020, by the Humpty Dumpty reference, pridecember2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:33:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27843046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nenya85/pseuds/Nenya85
Summary: Summary:  This is written for YGOPridecember 2020.  I’ve selected five prompts to tell a short story.  There’s a moment before “The Dark Side of Dimensions” begins, when Kaiba manages to throw his consciousness into a void between dimensions.  He catches a glimpse of Atem and struggles with everything in him to reach the pharaoh, but the strain of his quest is destroying his body and Mokuba ends the experiment before it kills him.  That made me wonder: what if Kaiba had left part of himself – a part of what he would refuse to label his soul – behind?Based on the manga, “Transcend Game,” but the story can be read on its own.
Relationships: Atem/Kaiba Seto
Comments: 48
Kudos: 42





	1. Prompt: DESIRE

* * *

Seto Kaiba was free. The moment was too profound for triumph, too sacred for gloating. He’d won the right to occupy this formless space between dimensions. Even the tenuous tether of his body, back in the Kaiba Corporation computer lab, was too insubstantial to chafe.

Kaiba threw back his head and laughed. The sound was both gloating and triumphant. 

The fog surrounding him darkened. Kaiba’s sudden, sharp gasp shattered the silence. He wasn’t alone. Kaiba’s pulse quickened; the blood rushed through his veins, leaving him slightly light-headed. His breath came faster, as if anticipation had thinned the air. Kaiba narrowed his eyes. There was only one man who could make him tremble from the merest hint of his presence.

Kaiba could see him now, a point of light in a sea of darkness. Kaiba’s mouth opened slightly as he caught the hint of spiky golden stalks of hair, the glimpse of a slim, toned body, half-hidden by fine linen robes, the glint of gold on arms and brow. His blood-wine eyes might be veiled by his lids, his face might be half turned away, downcast even, but his air of command remained. It called to Kaiba; it drew him on.

“If the way forward is through infinite darkness, I’ll illuminate it!” Kaiba called out, in challenge or in warning. Kaiba summoned his Blue Eyes White Dragon. He wanted his faithful servant, his pride and soul… his friend… present at his moment of victory. 

Would Atem respond? Or was Kaiba staring at his latest – and worst – defeat? Was he waiting for the final proof that he was doomed to remain unseen and unheard, that the connection Atem had insisted on, their rival’s bond, had never really existed, after all? Kaiba shivered, suddenly cold in this place without sensation, until anger came to his rescue, as it so often did, heating his blood and freeing his limbs.

“Answer me!” Kaiba demanded, drawing on every measure of strength, of will, of life, that he possessed. He raced forward. “My life chip is on the table! It’s your move! Pick it up or look me in the eyes as you deny me!”

The Blue Eyes White Dragon reared up in front of him, a warning beacon in treacherous weather. As Kaiba watched, she melted into a girl, still made of light, still illuminating the darkness as he’d promised.

Kaiba moved past her, ignoring whatever warning she was trying to give. He was almost there. In another moment he could touch the pharaoh, He could spin him around until they were face to face. He could…

Kaiba reached out his hand, only to see the pharaoh fade, like a hologram with a critical error, dissolving before it could form.

He was back in his computer lab. He was in his prototype interdimensional pod. Kaiba blinked at the ceiling lights. They hurt his eyes. The noises were too loud.

“You almost died, Niisama,” Mokuba sobbed.

Kaiba sat up and turned to face his brother. The room spun wildly. Kaiba put a hand to his head. For a moment his lab was the true shadow space – and that formless void, that glimpse of Atem – was the only thing real in any dimension. Kaiba shook his head trying to clear it. Had it all been just another hallucination?

“No. It was real,” Kaiba insisted. “He was there.”

“What was real? Who was where?” Mokuba asked.

Kaiba didn’t answer. He climbed out of the pod and leaned against it for a moment, catching his breath, reaching for the strength to stand up. He smiled at his brother and pulled himself upright. His face assumed his usual confident mask; as easily donned as a trench coat.

“Never mind,” Kaiba said. “We have work to do.”

Kaiba strode out of the lab, as laser focused as ever, with Mokuba running beside him, carrying his briefcase.

It was a sham. Kaiba knew, somewhere deep inside of himself, that he’d left a shard behind, as a marker or an offering – if something so involuntary and unplanned could be considered an action.

* * *

.

**AUTHOR’S NOTE:** There’s always something fun and nerve-wracking about starting to post a new story. For me, fandom is about community, and I wanted to do something to participate in Pridecember 2020. This will be a very short story, which feels a bit strange, but I hope you enjoy it. Please let me know.


	2. Prompt: THRONE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Manga Note:** Although the anime provides a backstory for Kisara, in the manga, she simply appears in the desert and her past is not discussed.

* * *

**Prompt: THRONE**

* * *

As far as anyone could tell – and Isono and Mokuba were watching Kaiba very closely – Kaiba was back to what passed for normal. The staccato tap of his heels echoed as loudly as ever as he strode through the Kaiba Corporation hallways. His staff scurried just as quickly when they exited each meeting. He ignored meals and pleas to sleep. 

Isono asked how Kaiba was feeling once a day and accepted the inevitable grunt he got in place of an answer. After the initial scare, Mokuba had relaxed. After all, his Niisama’s soul had been shattered, sealed in a playing card, trapped in stone (twice), and imprisoned in a virtual world (again, twice). It was easy to believe that his brother had managed to pull off yet another impossible gamble.

Kaiba knew better.

Kaiba had never believed in souls before, or more specifically, had never believed he had one. But as distasteful as Kaiba found metaphysics and poetic irony singly – much less in combination – he couldn’t deny what had happened. 

Atem had been so close to turning and acknowledging Kaiba as his equal, as his rival, as his friend – a benediction Atem had bestowed and then grabbed back by leaving without a word of farewell. Some wayward shard of Kaiba’s soul, as stubborn as the rest of him, had refused to leave without it... and more was slipping away each day. 

He’d lost. This was the price.

Atem was in paradise. It was morning. The sun streamed in through the doorways, throwing diamonds of light on the limestone and basalt patterned floor. His friends and counsellors talked among themselves, their voices fading to a soothing background murmur. 

Atem sat on his throne, weighed down by the gold diadem caressing his brow. Yesterday had been just as pleasant. So had been the day before. There’d been no reason for Atem to leave, to travel to the mist-dark zone between dimensions. 

He’d walked away from Yugi and the gang without looking back. He hadn’t told Kaiba that he was leaving, trusting Yugi to soften the blow in a way that he never could. He’d known that the only way was a clean and final break, leaving his friends and even his rival free to live without him. And yet, the moment he’d become aware of Kaiba calling to him, he’d broken every promise for the chance to see Kaiba again, to breathe in his presence, as if Atem was some other-worldly predator and Kaiba was his natural prey. 

Atem had told himself it was a harmless indulgence. And then he’d heard the desperation in Kaiba’s voice. He’d stopped, stunned and ashamed of his own selfishness. Kaiba didn’t belong in this shadowed realm that lay somewhere between life and death, where nothing human could long survive.

And so, Atem had turned away from Kaiba, as if the fire in Kaiba’s eyes would burn them both to ash. As if, with a single glance, their bond, forged through duels and pain and rivalry and hope, would instantly re-form, chaining Kaiba to this formless place, far from Mokuba and the people who loved him. And so, Atem had kept his face turned rigidly away. He’d chosen saving Kaiba’s life over easing his pain.

He’d been right.

But he could still hear Kaiba calling, long after he should have given up and gone home. Atem shifted on his throne. He tried ignoring Kaiba’s voce, telling himself it was all in his imagination; even Kaiba wasn’t this stupidly reckless.

Atem shifted again. He cursed aloud, furious with Kaiba for leaving him unable to believe his own hopeful lies. He stormed out of his throne room and into the courtyard, ignoring the stunned faces of his friends, who had been politely ignoring his inattention.

Kisara was waiting outside, tapping her foot impatiently on the smooth sandstone floor. Her hair glowed in the sunlight. 

It was paradise. She could have been covered in fine linen or silks. She was in the rough cotton shift she’d worn to her death. Grains of sand glittered on her bare feet. Atem could never decide if she was more disconcerting as a girl or as a dragon. Her eyes were the same either way. 

“I saw what you saw. I’ve heard what you’ve been hearing. You know what it means,” Kisara said, brushing her white hair from her shoulders. 

“I hoped I was wrong.”

She tapped her foot again.

Atem admitted, “He’s still out there. His call is stronger than the day I turned away from it. And yet, it seems fainter, as if it’s fading away.”

“He’s dying.”

“He can’t be!” Atem protested, trying to cling to his final illusion. “This isn’t what I wanted for him. I wanted him to be happy.”

“I know. As did I. But throughout two lifetimes, neither of us succeeded.”

“I didn’t say goodbye when I left. I didn’t even have a body to call my own. And I was afraid once I looked at him, I would never let go.” Atem shook his head. “I wanted him to forget me… no... I couldn’t bring myself to desire that, but I hoped it would happen anyway.” 

Kisara looked more like a dragon when she smiled, despite her human form. “You expected him to give up? To act as if he had a sense of self preservation… or any sense at all?”

Atem smiled in return. “It was foolish,” he acknowledged. “I thought I was protecting him. I thought I was setting him free.”

“It is difficult to do either,” Kisara admitted sadly. 

Atem paused. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

Atem’s lips tilted downwards. “For all the things beyond my control.”

“Are you speaking as a pharaoh? Or as an amnesiac wanderer in a strange world?” Kisara’s voice was gentle. “We have that in common. Or are you asking as someone else who died young, who left the world before truly learning to live in it?”

“Something else we share,” Atem acknowledged. He straightened up, feeling stronger with his decision made. “Whatever I thought best no longer matters. As usual Kaiba has pushed things to the breaking point. I can’t let him die alone.” Atem shuddered at the thought of Kaiba fading into nothingness, all the vibrancy leaching out of him to be swallowed in shadow. “I have to find him.”

“Of course,” Kisara agreed. 

She disappeared in a swirl of light, as blinding as a neutron blast. 

Atem nodded at the dragon who appeared before him in her place. “I should have known that you’d refuse to stay behind when he’s in danger.”

“Yes.” Kisara knelt down so he could climb on her back.

Atem summoned a familiar smirk. “Is this honor meant for me or him?”

He felt Kisara’s chuckle as it rumbled through her frame. “Maybe for once, it’s meant for you both.” 

Atem nodded. “Thank you,” he said as he sat on her broad back. “This journey is easier shared.” 

Kisara slipped through the dimensions as easily as if she was changing lanes. Atem smiled at the comparison. Kaiba would appreciate it, he thought.

“It’s strange, the places we come to call home,” Kisara said. “My first memory is of the desert. I’m still happiest there. Even the soft emptiness of this dimensionless world feels familiar in a way that the towns and walls of the Netherworld never will.”

“Despite everything, Domino still feels like my home.” It was easier to admit that, far from court, with only a dragon to hear. He shook his head. “But dying, leaving the places and people we love, is inevitable.” His lips twisted into a smile. “Even for a pharaoh.”

“We’re a mismatched pair, aren’t we?” Kisara said. “I yearn for a past that never was, and you crave a future you’ll never reach.”

“And we’re on a mission to find a man who’s rejected his past, before he manages to destroy his future as well. Damn him!” Atem swore. “He didn’t have to do this! He could have stayed safely in Domino!”

“Where does choice end and compulsion begin? The line is as blurred and formless as this borderland. I could have stayed in the desert. I could have let Seto die without sacrificing myself to save him. You could have refused to walk through a door to the after-life.”

Atem shook his head. “In my case, compulsion is too grand a word. It simply never occurred to me there was a third path.”

“A bold admission from a pharaoh.”

Atem chuckled. “Thank you. Now let’s go save the jerk so we can yell at him in peace.”

* * *

**AUTHOR’S NOTE:** I have to admit, I included the anime when making the list of the number of times Kaiba has had some mystical form of imprisonment or injury, mainly because I couldn’t resist adding to the count!


	3. Prompt: POSSESSIVE

Kaiba stared at his hand, waiting for the last hint of transparency to leave. He turned on his bedside lamp and turned it off again, grunting in satisfaction as his hand connected with the switch. His current situation proved that people could adapt to anything, even the occasional slide into near non-existence. During the day he was fine. But at night when Mokuba was asleep, when he had time to reflect, it happened. At first it had been confined to a strange, slight translucency, something Kaiba could write off as yet another stress or exhaustion induced hallucination. Then, one night, he’d reached for his glass and his hand had gone through it, as insubstantial as one of his holograms. He’d stayed up all night, testing his own solidity, and sometime before the sun had risen, he'd regained it. The next night, the cycle had repeated. It had taken less time for the fading to start; it had lasted longer.

Kaiba wondered with clinical detachment, how long it would take for the rest of him to rejoin that one fragment out in the darkness. He’d thought to illuminate a nighttime dimension; it seemed the void would consume him instead. “You won,” he whispered, unsure if he was referring to the yawning emptiness he’d faced or Atem’s indifference.

Kaiba got out of bed, appreciating the solid thunk of his feet hitting the floor in a way he never had when he’d taken it for granted. He threw on a robe, took a breath and left his bedroom. His time might be limited, but his agenda wasn’t – and spending the day with Mokuba topped the list. 

Kaiba went to his office downstairs to log into the Kaiba Corporation servers while he waited for Mokuba to wake up. Luckily, it was Saturday. His taking a day off, while somewhat unexpected, shouldn’t raise too many red flags in Mokuba’s mind. He’d finished sending an email when he heard Mokuba clamber down the steps, managing to sound like an entire middle school class rather than just one boy.

“You’re still home!” Mokuba called out in surprise. He frowned. “What's up? Are you okay?”

“What’s the point of being CEO if you can’t take a day off?” Kaiba tossed off with studied casualness.

Mokuba’s eyes narrowed. “Take a what? Niisama! What’s wrong? What’s going on?” he demanded, his voice rising with each word.

“Actually, I have a special project for us,” Kaiba backtracked, recognizing he’d made a tactical error.

Mokuba’s face cleared. “Really? Just for us?”

“We’re going to go undercover. We have all the sales data on what rides are the most popular, but nothing can replace a bit of personal surveillance. We’ll blend in with the crowd and take notes on their comments to get additional first-hand data on their decision making process,” Kaiba said, instantly turning his plan to take Mokuba to KaibaLand into an espionage operation.

“Cool!” Mokuba paused. “Can we go on the rides, too?”

“Of course.” Kaiba crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “How else can we get a sense of which rides generate the most excitement?”

Mokuba scanned his brother’s blue eyes white dragon pajamas, topped by a heavy, velvet, silver and blue paisley robe. “Inconspicuous isn’t exactly your thing.”

“If my vice president has any suggestions, I’ll take them under advisement,” Kaiba assured him.

Kaiba couldn’t do anything to disguise his height, but in jeans and a faded, knock-off Dragons of Duel Monsters T-shirt, he looked surprisingly nondescript. He crammed a baseball cap on his head, flattening his hair.

Mokuba grinned. “If you really want to fool people, you should wear a Dark Magician T-Shirt. No one would ever believe it was you!”

Kaiba rolled his eyes, before adding a pair of sunglasses. “There’s only so far I’m willing to go.”

“Well, I want one. It’ll fool everyone. I can put it on over my shirt.”

“As long as you burn it when we get home,” Kaiba said, reminded that he had to make sure they got back in time to put Mokuba to bed before he started his nightly fade-out.

“Deal!” Mokuba said happily as they headed for KaibaLand.

Kaiba realized suddenly how few moments like this they’d shared – and how much he was going to miss each and every one. He’d been so focused on chasing Atem, he hadn’t thought about what he was leaving behind. Not until it had smacked him in the face. 

Atem laughed. After all his worry, Kaiba’s soul was ridiculously easy to find. Kaiba was surrounded by a soft swirling smoke; he was translucent. But he was there, as disgruntled and bad-tempered as ever. In his sleek black outfit, his turtleneck shirt fastened across his chest in a diagonal line, Kaiba stood out like an ink blot in this formless smoky gray world. Kaiba crossed his arms in front of his chest and tapped his foot impatiently. Atem could almost imagine it echoing on a marble floor. Atem was reminded of Kisara waiting in his courtyard for him to catch a clue. Then, as Atem watched in horrified fascination, Kaiba dissolved into a single blue-white flame. 

“Listen to me, you bastard! You’re not going to die! Not here, not now, not when I’ve come to save you!” Atem screamed as he jumped off Kisara’s back and ran forward. Without thinking, he cupped his hands around the blue flame and cradled it close to his body. It warmed, but didn’t burn him.

But the instant he hugged Kaiba to him, Atem was dragged back in time to when he’d held Kaiba’s soul after Death-T, when he’d come to shatter it. He saw Kaiba again, shocked at how young he’d looked at ten; his face had still held the round softness of childhood. 

“I know why you’re here. You’re here to kill me,” the boy stated. His eyes glittered with an adult hardness.

“No!” Atem protested, even though he’d come for that very purpose; he’d called it justice back then until he’d walked into his enemy’s heart to find an implacable child.

“Why not? Losing is death,” Seto said with a child’s certainty.

“No,” Atem answered, ignoring his own doubts. Less than two years later, he’d lost a duel. He’d gone to the after-life. Atem frowned. It wasn’t the same. Atem shook his head to clear it. He opened his eyes to find his vision had changed. Instead of vanishing, Kaiba stood before him, a teenager again, still ghostly pale. 

“Are you sure about that?” Kaiba said, repeating and mocking Atem’s catchphrase from all their matches. “Losing isn’t just about dueling, is it? Chasing after something you’re never going to get, unable to stop or turn aside, forgetting everything in the pursuit… that’s a loss too.” 

Kaiba twisted his head away, just as Atem had averted his gaze at their last meeting. There was something achingly defenseless about the gesture, as if Kaiba had finally wandered outside of his walls, only to become the natural prey of any monster with a talon or fang.

“I chased my destiny,” Atem said suddenly. “I let go of everything else, and I never realized it, even as the life I’d had slipped through my fingers. But it doesn’t have to be the end. Not for you. I have faith in you, Kaiba. I always have.”

“Betrayal is the price of hope. I knew that once,” Kaiba said dreamily, his thoughts unravelling with each sentence, becoming unmoored to anything but his fraying sense of self. “I tried to find the power of friendship. It didn’t work, or maybe I just didn’t understand, it’s only a power if the desire for it is shared. Pathetic, isn’t it?” 

Again, Atem was dragged back into the past, watching Kaiba chase him through Battle City, helping him save his friends, demanding a duel. Watching himself rush away each time. “That’s not fair and you know it! Their lives were in danger. I had to save them.”

Kaiba faced him then. “Of course, you did,” he agreed blandly, the momentary vulnerability gone as if it had never existed.

“Shut up!” Atem yelled. For an instant the blue light flickered, Kaiba’s form vanished. “Come back here, damn you! This isn’t over.”

Kaiba reappeared. “Isn’t it?” He sounded tired. “You didn’t say goodbye or give me a final duel. You didn’t even turn around when I managed to follow you here. Why are you here now?” Kaiba laughed. “Does guilt rule everything you do?”

“Kaiba…” Atem breathed as Kaiba’s shadowy form sank back into the flame. Atem dropped to his knees. Kaiba had always known how to make an entrance. His exit line was equally devastating. “This isn’t over,” Atem repeated to the fire still cradled in his hand.

Kisara had watched, unmoving from the moment Atem had picked up the flame, afraid to disrupt whatever was happening. She could feel Kaiba’s presence, but she saw only a spit of blue white fire. She narrowed her eyes as if it would make Kaiba appear, then transferred her gaze to Atem, listening as he talked to no one. Then, Kaiba’s light flickered. Atem cursed. Kisara changed back into a girl, ran forward and knelt in front of the fragile blue flame, holding her hands out as though to shield it. “What did you see?” she asked Atem, urgently.

Atem’s lips twisted. “My past. It’s not pretty viewing. I managed to miss everything of importance.”

“The past is gone. You’re not required to repeat its mistakes.” She smiled at Atem through the flickering blue light; it was a dragon’s smile. “What are you going to do now?”


	4. Prompt: FRUSTRATION

It was daytime. The morning light was streaming in through Kaiba’s floor to ceiling windows, striping the sky-blue rug and sapphire Blue Eyes White Dragon comforter. Kaiba sat up in bed, as translucent as the ghost in an old-fashioned Christmas movie.

Defeat always took Seto Kaiba by surprise. And so, he had limited resources for dealing with what had happened. He’d chased Atem through a formless dimension, certain that Atem would turn around, would face him one last time. He’d been eager to bet his life on Atem, on their friendship or rivalry or whatever had connected them.

Losing hadn’t been part of his calculations.

Kaiba was glad he’d taken Mokuba to KaibaLand. He hoped that would make a difference, be a counterweight, however small, when Mokuba… Kaiba shied away from completing that thought, focusing instead on a more practical problem: what was he going to do now? He couldn’t sit and wait until he faded away, leaving Mokuba with an empty room and a mystery. But neither could he wander around his own mansion, scaring his housekeeping staff, needing only a sheet and chains to become an urban legend. He couldn’t manipulate his phone enough to text Mokuba, even if he’d had a clue how to phrase the message.

Kaiba bit the inside of his almost non-existent cheek as he considered the problem, keeping alert for any sounds of life coming from Mokuba’s room next door. His familiar cocky grin resurfaced. He could use his non-corporeal state to his advantage and simply walk through the wall to get to his brother’s room. He grunted as he came to the next glitch in the program. He couldn’t just waltz through the wall, freaking his brother out in the process. Kaiba got up and tested the solidity of his walls. He grunted again, in satisfaction this time, when his hand went through the wall. He waited until he heard Mokuba tossing in his bed. Mokuba grumbled incoherently for a moment and then got up to go to the bathroom. Kaiba walked half-way through the wall so he was still hidden from sight, waited until Mokuba returned to his room, and called his brother’s name.

“Nisama?” Mokuba said, looking around. “Did you put in an intercom or something?”

“No.” Kaiba paused. “It’s hard to explain. I don’t want to scare you.”

“I wasn’t scared until you started talking to me from the wall. What’s wrong?”

“Remember earlier in the week when I tried to reach Atem and ended up in a different dimension?”

“How would I forget something like that? _What’s going on?_ ”

Kaiba drew in a breath. “Something went wrong. I can’t hold a firm body anymore. Come next door, but I need you to understand… it’s bad.”

Mokuba raced out of his room and into Kaiba’s, slamming the door behind him. He stopped just over the threshold and stared. Kaiba was in bed. Mokuba could see the headboard behind him. Mokuba burst into tears.

“Hey, kid…” Kaiba stopped, unsure of what to say next. None of his usual lines – _it’ll be okay… I know what I’m doing… there’s nothing to worry about… I’ve got it under control_ – seemed to apply. He settled on, “I’m sorry. I didn’t think this…”

“You never think!!” Mokuba said fiercely, then stopped and stared at his brother. “I’m sorry…”

“No. This is my fault, not yours. Don’t apologize for being right! I didn’t stop and think and now I’ve fucked everything up and you should be angry with me for being so careless and acting like nothing bad would happen and worse, like it wouldn’t matter if it did,” The words came out in a rush. “I’d give anything to undo this. But I can’t.”

“You don’t know that!” Mokuba insisted.

“What?”

“I’m calling Yugi. This is some kind of magical ghost bullshit. He knows more about that than anyone.”

Kaiba pressed his lips together to avoid protesting. He took a deep breath, then pried his lips apart enough to say, “Tell Yugi to keep his mouth shut.”

“Duh!” Mokuba said as he raced for his phone.

Yugi came the instant he got Mokuba’s call. “How is he?” Yugi asked. Mokuba’s garbled phone call had been long on tears and short on explanations.

Mokuba scowled. “You’ll see.” 

“He’s at home? Not at work?” Yugi asked as he followed Mokuba up the stairs.

“You’ll see,” Mokuba repeated. He opened the door to Kaiba’s bedroom.

Yugi crossed the threshold and stopped. The scene was painfully familiar. Kaiba was in bed in pale blue pajamas. Yugi squinted. They had had Blue Eyes White Dragons on them. Kaiba was translucent; Atem had looked the same back in the days when they’d sat on Yugi’s bed and talked late into the night.

“How?” Yugi asked.

Kaiba explained in a few short sentences, leaving out anything that resembled an emotion or a desire. Kaiba finished by chuckling as he added, “I guess I demanded a duel once too often.”

“I’m sorry,” Yugi said.

“My decisions are hardly your fault,” Kaiba pointed out.

“That’s why I said that I was sorry, not that I’m guilty.”

Kaiba raised two translucent fingers to his forehead in salute. “Point.”

Yugi shook his head. “I’m sorr....” He stopped himself and continued, “I don't know anything that can help. Atem looked like this, back before we knew his name. I guess we just assumed it was a sign that he didn’t belong here, not really.”

Kaiba wondered if the same could be said of him. He looked past Yugi to his brother. “I wasn’t holding my life chip too loosely. I swear it. Or I didn’t mean to. I just couldn’t see anything but the path in front of me.” Kaiba shook his head. “You’re right. I never can. Hell of a time to figure that out, isn’t it?” 

“It’s okay,” Mokuba said.

“No, it isn’t. I didn’t mean to leave you.”

“I forgive you.”

“You don’t have to. And you shouldn’t. It’s one thing to debate how tightly I held my own life chip. I never should have risked losing my grip on yours.”

“I’ll forgive you if you promise to try your hardest to keep living and figure this out.”

Kaiba smiled. “It’s a deal.”

* * *

“What are you going to do now?” Kisara asked.

Atem looked at her, wide-eyed. “I don’t know.” He’d been a ghost, without memories or a name, and yet, Kaiba had just taught him a new form of helplessness. 

Atem drew in a breath and tried to corral his scattered thoughts enough to come up with a plan. He couldn’t fail Kaiba for a final time. He was a pharaoh. He was the link to the gods, their representative both on earth and in the after-life. He’d never thought about what any of that meant, even after he’d regained his memories; it had been in the background, waiting. “Please help,” he whispered to them. “I can’t do this alone.” 

Horakhty had come to him once before, in his final battle with Zorc. Atem breathed a sigh of relief when she appeared again. She raised her arms. Atem was blinded by the light streaming from them. He opened his eyes, unsure if he and Kisara had been transported somehow or if the gods had just rearranged this in-between space to suit their needs. He was surrounded by familiar sandstone walls, heavy with hieroglyphs. One side of the cavernous room held his newly remembered gods; the other, his friends and counselors. Whatever happened next, he felt better with them here to bear witness. 

He took a closer look at the assembled gods. Anubis and Thoth flanked Ma’at and her scales. Ammit lay in wait underneath, ready to devour the undeserving.

Atem’s eyes widened. Was this all that was left for Kaiba? The judging of his life? Atem straightened as if he could add inches to his height. He had faith in Kaiba, even as he grieved for the ending of his life. “I give him to your mercy and judgement,” he said, his voice growing in confidence with each word.

Atem took a step towards the scales, ready to lay Kaiba’s soul in one golden cup. Atem paused, reluctant to move forward. The flame was so small and weak. What if it went out before it could be judged? He drew in a breath, resisted the temptation to look back at Kisara, who had stared at the gods, undaunted, since they’d arrived. Atem could imagine Kaiba facing them with the same defiance; the thought gave him the courage to move forward again.

Anubis held out his staff to stop him.

“It’s not his turn,” Horakhty explained. She reached out and touched his chest. Atem gasped. She withdrew her hand. Atem stared at his own heart, held gently in her cupped palm. “Did you think there is no risk to you as well?”

“I would gladly assume any risk for him.” Atem paused. “But my heart has already been weighed.”

“It was weighed in death,” Horakhty explained. “Now, it will be weighed for life.”

Atem nodded. He felt no less himself without a heart, as long as he held Kaiba’s in his hand.

He followed Horakhty to Ma’at’s scales. Ma’at laid her feather on one scale then took his heart from Horakhty’s hands and gently placed it in the other.

Atem drew in a breath, ready to affirm Ma’at’s laws, but Horakhty held up a hand. “Why did you call to us?” she asked.

“Because I need for Kaiba to have a second chance. His life can’t end like this, snuffed out in a foreign place, so far from his home.”

“He came to that place of his own volition.”

“He always does.”

“Then he refused to leave. If his life ends in a world between dimensions, without hope of rebirth, it will be because of his own recklessness.”

“Yes. He does not know order or stability. He careens from one unbalanced thought or action to the next. He has broken at least 25 of Ma’at’s laws.”

“And yet you plead for him?”

“Yes,” Atem said again. “The laws that Kaiba has kept matter as well. As often as he has begrudged listening, he has never closed his ears to the truth. As often as grief has touched his life, he has never sorrowed without reason.” Atem lifted his cupped hands up, the flame of Kaiba’s life still held in them, shinning with renewed strength. “Look at him. This fire is his life. Even after everything, he burns so brightly. I would see him restored. I will accept any judgement for my own presumption but do not punish him for his.”

“Whose second chance are you pleading for?” Horakhty asked. “His? Or yours?”

Atem looked down for the first time. Kisara laid her hands on his shoulders, steadying him. He turned to smile at her, then faced Horakhty and said, “For both of us.”

Ma’at spoke for the first time. “If we weigh your hearts together, will they balance each other? Will they be lighter as a result?”

Atem hesitated. What if his own doubt and guilt weighed Kaiba down? He watched in horror as the scale dipped in answer to his fears. Kisara kneaded his shoulders gently. Atem tried to match her slow deep breaths. He smiled, knowing with absolute certainty what answer Kaiba – despite all his protestations of standing and walking alone – would give if he was standing in Atem’s place. “Yes. We have been at odds so often. We have spent two lifetimes racing in opposite directions. Now, let us be judged together.”

“You understand that the consequences of this choice extend far beyond this weighing?” Horakhty warned. “If your hopes are justified, you will both return to the world you pled for so eloquently, to live out your lives there, together, before returning for a third and final time to this hall.”

Atem glanced at his counsellors. Even at a distance, he could see them nod, see affectionate resignation paint their faces. “I’m ready,” he said.

Horakhty held out her hands. Atem surrendered the blue spark. She carried it to Ma’at’s scales and laid it over Atem’s heart. Atem smiled, warmed by the flames. He reached for Kisara’s hand; she moved forward to stand next to him.

“One final question,” Ma’at said. “He is a mortal. Mortals die. Why does this one matter?” 

Atem looked at the Maat’s feather hanging above Anubis’ scales. Only truth – the truth he’d never acknowledged to himself – would serve. “Because I love him.”

* * *

**Thanks to Bnomiko for betaing this!**

**AUTHOR’S NOTE:** At the judgement, the dead person had to affirm that they had not broken any of Ma’at’s 42 laws, by saying things like, “I have not spoken angrily or arrogantly,” or “I have not acted with insolence. I had a lot of fun trying to figure out which ones Kaiba had definitely broken, which ones he might have broken depending on your interpretation of both the laws and the events in Yu-Gi-Oh! and which ones he had definitely kept (a much smaller number.)

**HAPPY NEW YEAR!**


	5. Prompt: SWEET

Kaiba managed to get Yugi to leave without actually throwing him out of the house. Kaiba sat in silence afterwards; it was a sure-fire way to keep himself from pointing out to Mokuba that Yugi had been just as useless as he’d expected. Kaiba’s internal rant was interrupted by Mokuba’s shout.

“I’ve got it, Niisama! You need to go back!”

“What? Where?”

“To that weird in-between place! Think about it! If I left my jacket at the park, the first thing I’d do is go back and see if it’s still there, right?”

Kaiba raised an eyebrow. He would have vigorously denied the existence of a soul, but comparing his to a jacket stung, nevertheless. “It’s hardly the same thing.”

“How do you know? Maybe the rest of you is just hanging out there waiting!”

Kaiba sighed. He’d promised to try. And if nothing else, it would spare Mokuba having to watch him fade away. “Okay, Vice President. Let’s execute your plan.” Kaiba got out of bed and walked to the door. He stopped and turned to Mokuba. “Put on my duel disk.”

“Huh? Why? Niisama, you’re going to duel again! Everything will work out and you’ll be wearing it yourself in no time!”

“That’s not the point.” Kaiba gestured impatiently to his translucent body. “Look at me. I can’t go wandering around Domino like a special effect from a horror movie. But if you’re wearing a Duel Disk, we don’t have to explain anything. I’m a hologram you’re testing.”

“Sure thing!” Mokuba said, eager to do anything that would placate his brother. “I’ll have Isono bring the limo. You’ll be back at the computer lab and in the VR pod in no time!”

Kaiba had been accurate in his estimate of how many bizarre sights his staff – both in the mansion and at Kaiba Corporation – were willing to ignore. Everyone glanced at them, dropped their eyes to Mokuba’s Duel Disk, shrugged and went back to whatever they were doing. Isono was the exception, as he so often was, but all he said was, “Best wishes, sir,” as they got out of the limousine. Isono turned to Mokuba and added, “I’ll come to the lab.”

Kaiba hesitated once he was facing down his VR pod. Mokuba was at the controls in the loft above him.

“What’s wrong, Niisama?” Mokuba asked through the intercom.

Kaiba looked down at his Blue Eyes White Dragon pajamas. He refused to go back to the place between dimensions – and possibly face Atem – wearing anything as undignified as pajamas. He frowned and with one swift motion stripped off his top, baring his chest and torso. It wasn’t a trench coat, but it was the best he could manage. Kaiba ran his fingers through his hair, relieved when it fell into place. 

“What are you doing?” Mokuba asked.

“Consider it a test,” Kaiba said, dropping his pajama top on a chair. “If the shirt turns solid, then maybe so have I.”

Mokuba swallowed. He nodded resolutely. “Good luck, big brother,” he said as Kaiba climbed into the pod. Mokuba pressed the sequence to start the powering up process, then ran downstairs to close the door to the pod. Mokuba stayed in the room, even though he couldn’t see through the pod’s darkened windows. Isono joined him. They stood next to each other, staring at the shadowy remains of Kaiba’s pajama top.

Kaiba looked around. He’d managed to make it back, but Mokuba’s jacket analogy had failed him. Kaiba hadn’t really expected to find his soul waving and holding up a sign like a chauffeur at an airport. But now he had to accept the probability that part of him was gone, devoured by the hungry grayness Kaiba could feel closing in around him.

All the times that Kaiba had insisted on walking alone came back to haunt him. There was being alone in Domino and then there was this formless void where nothing existed or could endure, a swirling emptiness that made Kaiba ache for the comfort of his first penalty game where at least he’d had ravening monsters for company.

He was going to die here, now that he’d finally realized what an erasure that would be, now that he’d give anything for the chance to learn and grow, now that he’d pay any price to see Mokuba again. It was such a blazingly appropriate ending to his life, all Kaiba could do was throw back his head and laugh, but even his howls sounded muffled. 

Standing in his unmarked grave, Kaiba admitted that he’d wanted Atem to turn and look at him one last time. He’d secretly hoped that he’d find Atem waiting, his face wreathed in smiles and contrition. 

Kaiba laughed again, more quietly this time. He might as well have wished for his beloved dragon to join Atem. And the cream of the jest was that even now when all reason for hope had been extinguished, part of him refused to give up his wayward faith in Atem.

Kaiba repressed a shudder. If these were his last moments, he refused to give this empty world any more of himself, even his terror, even his baseless, futile dreams. 

But for all his bravado, for all his genuine courage, it was over. 

It wasn’t a question of surrender; Kaiba would never do that. It simply came down to a lack of resources. Kaiba dropped to his knees, no longer having the strength to hold himself upright, then completed his final fall, landing face down in the formless nothingness as if it was his bed, trying to find comfort in knowing that Mokuba wasn’t here to see his last defeat.

* * *

Atem smiled as Ma’at’s feather stayed firmly, stubbornly aloft. Kaiba would have insisted sheer strength of will was holding it up; Atem believed his faith – in his gods, in himself, in Kaiba – was being rewarded.

“It’s done,” Ma’at announced. Ammit growled and went to sleep under Ma’at’s scales, resting until the next time he was called upon to devour the unworthy.

Atem couldn’t repress a shudder, now that he’d won.

Horakhty returned his heart; Atem gasped as it entered his chest. She went to Ma’at’s Scales and gave Seto’s flame back into Atem’s hands. “When you return this to Seto, he will be able to lead you – and only you – home to the world you have chosen.”

Atem glanced at Kisara. She folded her wings and shook her head. “My remaining in the after-life was inevitable. And If there’s one thing dragons have learned, it’s how to wait patiently.”

The room vanished. Atem and Kisara were back in that in-between dimension, if they’d ever left it in the first place. They were just in time to see Kaiba fall to his knees and then pitch forward onto the formless ground.

“No!” Atem howled, running forward. “It can’t be too late. I won’t let it!”

He and Kisara reached Kaiba’s prone body at the same time. Atem was hampered by the need to hold Kaiba’s flame. He was afraid it would go out if he set it down. Kisara changed back into a woman and reached out. Under her hands, Kaiba’s form regained enough solidity that she could turn him.

Atem looked at Kaiba’s bared torso, then at the flame in his hands. It suddenly seemed so much smaller and infinitely more fragile. “I’m not sure what to do,” Atem admitted. “It’s frightening, holding his heart in my hands. I’m afraid of breaking it.” Atem drew in a breath. “But it’s time to play my last turn.” 

Atem lay the flame gently on Kaiba’s chest. It spread along Kaiba’s still translucent body, engulfing it in flames. Kisara changed back to a dragon as they watched the fire. It was hard to tell if they were attending a rebirth or presiding over a funeral pyre. The flames disappeared. Kaiba lay below them, solid again. His chest was still; his eyes were closed.

“Kaiba, wake up! I know you have the strength!” Atem urged.

Kaiba’s chest heaved as he drew in his first gasping, shuddering breath. His body jerked upwards as though he’d received an electric shock. His eyes snapped open. Kaiba sat up. He collapsed a second later, falling backwards. Kaiba slowly lifted his head and torso to a reclining position, bracing himself with his elbows and forearms. Atem knelt down beside him. 

Kaiba stared at Atem in confusion. 

“You’re here.” Kaiba looked past Atem. His eyes widened as he saw his Blue Eyes White Dragon. “Oh…” Kaiba’s voice trailed off. He frowned, racing to put the pieces together. “This is it then. At least Mokuba didn’t have to watch me die.”

“You’re alive, Kaiba,” Atem assured him.

Kaiba pressed his lips together. He glanced at Kisara.

“He’s telling the truth,” Kisara confirmed.

Kaiba nodded slowly.

Atem bit his lip. The last thing he’d expected was for Kaiba to doubt him so thoroughly. Then Atem realized that the last memory Kaiba had had of him was of his turning away, denying Kaiba the one thing he’d come to find: Atem, himself. 

Kaiba swallowed, forcing down a sense of panic. His brain had always been his ticket to success; it was working so sluggishly now; he felt like a guppy with sharks circling the water. If he wasn’t dead… “You’re a hallucination,” Kaiba announced.

“No, I’m not!” Atem said, leaning forward and shaking him. “You can feel me, Kaiba.”

“That’s what an illusion _would_ say,” Kaiba pointed out. He focused on Kisara. “This is so close to my dream. Are you a hallucination?”

“No.” Kisara said. “I’m your dragon.”

Kaiba nodded. “That’s okay then.” Suddenly, his eyes widened in horror. “It’s a penalty game, isn’t it? Are you here to rip me limb from limb? Are you going to kill and then devour me?”

“No,” Kisara said.

Atem shuddered, remembering Ammit lying in wait at the weighing of their hearts. 

“Then what’s left?” Kaiba asked.

“You survived.”

“You’re safe, Kaiba. I promise,” Atem said.

Kaiba looked at Atem. “You also promised I’d experience death when we first met.”

“Yes. And that’s why you can believe me when I tell you I’m here to deliver life.”

Kaiba looked at Kisara. “I didn’t just see Atem, before.” He winced, remembering how Atem had turned and walked away. “You were here, too. Weren’t you?”

“I tried to warn you.”

Kaiba’s lips twitched into a smile. Atem and Kisara moved closer as though leaning into a campfire. “A lot of people do that,” Kaiba observed.

“I’m glad you survived,” Kisara answered.

Kaiba managed a chuckle. “That seems to be my specialty.” But as soon as the words left his mouth, Kaiba trembled uncontrollably, overcome with the strain of sitting semi-upright. Atem pulled Kaiba into his arms, so Kaiba was supported against Atem’s chest. Kisara nudged Kaiba gently in his side and gave a low crooning hum. It sounded like a lullaby. Kaiba relaxed back against Atem and closed his eyes. He could die like this, Kaiba thought, and have no cause for complaint.

“Kaiba! Don’t leave us,” Atem said.

Kaiba opened an eye, trying to make sense of Atem’s words. Atem had been the one who’d left. Kaiba had simply followed. Kaiba shook his head. But Atem was here. That meant he’d come back. He’d come back for Kaiba. “I don’t understand,” Kaiba said, too exhausted to hide his confusion. “I didn’t expect either of you.”

“You should have,” Kisara answered. “But you never expect much.”

Kaiba smiled. “Even if this _is_ the end, it’s more than I deserve.”

“I can think of a few gods that might agree,” Kisara said.

“They didn’t!” Atem protested.

Kisara laughed.

Kaiba looked from one of them to the other. He should be upset. It was clear that he was out of the loop and that was never good news. He couldn’t even tell if they were laughing at him. But his dragon was crooning lullabies and Atem was holding him and Kaiba couldn’t work up the energy to protest.

And Mokuba was waiting. 

“What happens now?” Kaiba asked.

“It’s time to go home,” Atem said.

Kaiba turned suddenly in Atem’s arms and clutched the front of Atem’s fine linen tunic with a force neither of them realized Kaiba had regained. 

Kaiba gulped. It was ending too soon. Why was it only nightmares that lasted? “Please…” Kaiba said, then lost the ability to say anything else. His tears flowed so softly that Kaiba was only aware he was crying when a sob hitched in his newly re-awakened lungs. “Please… let me stay just a little longer.”

Atem’s arms tightened around Kaiba’s torso. How did they manage to keep piling blunder on top of blunder as if caring was a game that neither of them had mastered? “We’re both going home,” Atem promised.

“Home?” Kaiba asked as if the word was unfamiliar.

“Yes. We’re going back to Domino. Together.”

Kaiba closed his eyes and drew in another breath. Atem looked over Kaiba’s shoulder at Kisara. Her blue eyes had hardened to steel.

“Of all the promises I’ve ever made, of all the destinies I’ve followed, this is the most joyful,” Atem told her.

“Then I’m content as well,” she answered.

Kaiba’s eyes shot open at that. He looked up at Kisara.

She smiled sadly, reading the question in his gaze. “No,” Kisara replied. “I can go no farther.” She smiled, a baring of her fangs. Kaiba would remember for the rest of his life how gentle it was. “But I’m willing to wait for the day when you both come back to me.”

“Horakhty said that you would lead us home. How did you get back last time?” Atem asked Kaiba.

Kaiba chuckled weakly. “Mokuba pulled the emergency brake.”

Atem shook his head, not bothering to hide his smirk. “Of course, he did.”

“There was a return protocol. I just lost track of it,” Kaiba said irritably. He tried to focus his thoughts on the steps to exit this world. Kaiba shook his head, realizing that just like before, part of him didn’t want to leave. 

Atem’s arms tightened around Kaiba’s torso. “We’re going home together,” he repeated. 

Kaiba nodded and drew in a breath, willing himself to believe, steeling himself to face the risk of losing, for the hope of finally winning it all. 

And Mokuba was waiting.

“Okay,” Kaiba said. “I’m ready.”

* * *

Mokuba and Isono hadn’t moved since Kaiba’s disappearance, as if sitting down or even glancing away from Kaiba’s pajama top would summon disaster. For an instant, the pajama top winked into nonexistence. Mokuba gasped and hid his face in his hands. 

Isono’s eyes narrowed but his gaze never wavered. He drew in a shaky breath. “Look again,” Isono advised.

Mokuba forced himself to look through his fingers at the chair. His brows drew together. Was the shirt a little more solid? He took a step forward, then ran over. Mokuba grabbed the Blue Eyes White Dragon pajama top, crying as his hold tightened on fabric. He lifted it and buried his face in Kaiba’s shirt. It carried his brother’s scent.

“It’s solid!” Mokuba sobbed.

Isono exhaled in relief. 

Mokuba ran to the pod, still holding the shirt. It was empty. “Why hasn’t he returned?” he demanded.

“I’m not sure,” Isono answered. “Last time, he needed your help to get back.”

“Yeah, and we all saw how well _that_ worked out.” Mokuba glanced from the pod to the emergency handle. He didn’t know what else to try. He bit his lip and nodded. “I’m going to do it,” he announced. Mokuba walked to the handle and set his hands on it. He closed his eyes, thinking of his brother, and pulled the lever downwards. 

Mokuba opened his eyes when he heard Isono’s gasp. His brother had returned, as solid as ever and still wearing his Blue Eyes White Dragon pajama bottom. But Kaiba wasn’t alone. Atem was beside him, in a gold breastplate and a white and blue linen tunic; one arm was around Kaiba’s waist, buttressing him.

Mokuba ran across the room to his brother. “What’s going on? What happened? Are you alive, Niisama? You look alive!”

Kaiba nodded. He closed his eyes as if the gesture had drained his remaining strength, then reached out shakily. 

Mokuba burst into noisy sobs and launched himself at Kaiba, knocking his brother further into Atem. Kaiba’s hand came to rest on the top of Mokuba’s head. Atem staggered backwards. Isono hovered in the background, ready to be an additional support wall, if one was needed, as they swayed in place, but Atem re-balanced, holding the brothers upright. 

“Mokuba,” Kaiba paused, trying to think of what to say. “You were right. It worked.”

“I knew it!” Mokuba cheered, finally stepping back. “You just had to believe.” 

Kaiba shook his head. “It wasn’t about belief. I gave up hope. It was just…”

“Sheer stubbornness,” Atem concluded for him.

“Who cares? You did it! I knew you could!” Mokuba said.

Kaiba shook his head again. His brows drew together, unseen under his bangs, as he puzzled it out. He was tired. It was hard to think. But there was something he had to tell Mokuba. It was important. “No. I couldn’t do it alone. I needed… I had help.”

“You’re safe! That’s all that matters.” Mokuba looked at Atem. “Thank you?” he said, his hesitation turning it into a question.

Kaiba couldn’t resist smirking; he needed to prove to himself that he was back. He turned to Atem. “Took you long enough.”

Atem resisted the urge to smile at this small return to normalcy. “Next time send me a list of whatever stupidly self-destructive things you have planned for the day so that I can rearrange my schedule around them.”

Kaiba’s grinned widened, but as if to emphasize that “normal” had changed, Atem could feel the faint tremors running through Kaiba’s body. “Will you stop putting up a brave front and just collapse already?” Atem asked in exasperation.

“We’ll hold you up, Niisama,” Mokuba said, throwing himself at Kaiba again, burying his head against his brother’s side, until Atem was once again bearing their weight. Isono took a step forward, but this time, Atem was braced and ready. His arms came up around them both. 

“See, no problem,” Atem boasted.

Kaiba was tempted to pretend he was a hologram again, rather than walk through Kaiba Corporation in his pajamas, but Isono had cleared the hallway. They made it to the underground garage, into a waiting limousine, and then to the mansion, where at least pajamas made sense.

Atem and Isono, with Mokuba’s inefficient help, managed to get Kaiba into his room. “I’m okay,” Kaiba reassured his brother once he was sitting up in bed. “I just feel like… like a computer operating system that’s waiting for its updates to be completed. But I’m back. All of me. I’m sure of it.”

Mokuba nodded. 

Kaiba looked at his brother then at Isono. ‘Take my brother to get something to eat.”

Isono put his hand on Mokuba’s shoulder. “Can I come back to check on you?” Mokuba asked.

“As many times as you want,” Kaiba assured him.

Isono and Mokuba left, closing the door behind them.

Kaiba shifted his eyes from the door to Atem and then back, confirming that Atem was still there. “Aren’t you going to go call Yugi or something?” he asked.

“Later.”

Kaiba paused, unable to look away. He’d accepted his death. He didn’t know what to make of his life. He didn’t know why Atem was here. It made it hard to believe in his presence. “I learned something out there,” Kaiba said quietly.

“What?”

“I want to live.” Kaiba paused. He wouldn’t have been able to say this a week ago, even if Atem had turned around. Kaiba hated going first, venturing outside of the walls he’d built, without any guarantees, without having surveyed the landscape to see what monsters lay in wait. But the force of his unexpressed desire had almost killed him. Kaiba hung his head. “And I want you.” 

Atem smiled. “I know. I’m glad.”

“Atem, why are you here with me?”

“Because this is where I chose to be.”

Kaiba shook his head. “Then why didn’t you turn around when I called your name?”

They were learning to talk all over again and their conversation had taken on the directness of preschoolers learning to ask for more than cookies and milk. 

“I didn’t know my own heart, so how could I gauge yours? I was afraid that if I turned around, you’d never leave. I was afraid of seeing you die in a place where you were never meant to be. I thought if I refused to look, you’d get angry and storm off and be safe. For once, I underestimated your stubbornness.” Atem’s voice dropped. “I underestimated us.”

“So, what happens now?” Kaiba asked.

Atem sat next to Kaiba on the bed. “I don’t know. I had a destiny. I told myself that was enough. And then I heard you call me. And I knew I wanted more. I wanted a life. And I wanted to share that life with you.” Atem leaned forward. “May I?” he whispered.

Kaiba nodded. His eyes drifted shut as Atem’s lips brushed his. Atem tasted them, then slid his tongue into Kaiba’s mouth. Kaiba almost started back in surprise, before relaxing, letting Atem explore his mouth and learn its contours. Kaiba opened his eyes, then narrowed them in a failed attempt to bring Atem’s face into focus. Kaiba refused to shut his eyes again, needing proof beyond the feel of Atem’s lips to believe that this was happening.

“Relax, Kaiba,” Atem murmured, raising his hands to massage Kaiba’s shoulders and arms. 

With a sob muffled by Atem’s kiss, Kaiba grabbed Atem and yanked him closer, overbalancing them both. One hand tangled in Atem’s hair, holding him in place, while the other pushed Atem closer, erasing any hint of distance between them. Kaiba needed Atem’s body to warm his to life, needed to feel Atem’s heart against his chest, as if that would jump start his own and keep it beating. Slowly, as he felt Atem cover his face with kisses, as Atem’s hands slipped in between them to trace the planes of his chest, Kaiba did as Atem had asked. He relaxed. Kaiba closed his eyes and fought the urge to jerk them open again. “Every time I shut my eyes...” Kaiba said.

“You’re afraid I’ll be gone when they open,” Atem finished.

“Yes.”

“I have no other world than this, Kaiba. I’ve burned all my bridges.”

“What happened?” Kaiba asked, his eyes snapping open in concern.

Atem chuckled. “You did. I was given a choice. Paradise lay before me… serene… secure… static. I was holding your heart in my hands. I could feel it beating. It was such a precious burden. I never wanted to let it go. I didn’t want to miss out on life, on the hope of living it by your side. I bargained with the gods for a second chance for us both. They were merciful. They answered my prayers.”

Kaiba snorted softly, soothed enough by the sound of Atem’s voice to object. “ _I_ was the one who designed a way of crossing dimensions, not any obsolete gods.”

Atem smiled at this sign of renewed life. “Please try not to test their patience any more than you have to,” he said, shutting Kaiba’s mouth with another, longer kiss.

Kaiba stretched and sank further into the bed, his eyes still closed.

“How long has it been since you slept?” Atem asked.

Kaiba opened his eyes so that he could roll them at Atem. “I was dissolving into non-existence. What would be the point of sleeping through the limited time I had left?” Kaiba frowned. Unbidden, the question, _“What irreplaceable moment will I miss if I sleep now?”_ flashed through his mind.

Atem answered it. “We have the one thing we lacked before, the one thing we’ve always lacked. We have tomorrow.”

“Is that your way of telling me to go to sleep?”

“It’s my way of telling you that I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Kaiba frowned. “I’m going to be an asshole tomorrow, when I realize everything I’ve said, everything I’ve exposed to your gaze.”

“Kaiba!”

“I know what you’re going to say. That I can trust you. That you care. That your being here is proof of both. But that’s not the point. You _know_.” 

“And I’m going to wake up tomorrow, shocked by the immensity of the decision I made today. It was my first one, just for myself, and I made it in a heartbeat,” Atem said. “One look, one chance, and I knew.” Atem lifted his head and torso slightly off of Kaiba so that he could look him in the eyes, his tone as serious as the grave. “But whatever happens tomorrow…”

“We’ll stare it down together,” Kaiba finished. He reached up and cupped Atem’s face in his hands. “No matter how tempted, I won’t take it back. Any of it. I promise. I’ll learn to live with it, instead.” 

“As will I. Happily,” Atem answered. 

Kaiba dropped his hands. He closed his eyes as he tried to puzzle out what had happened to them both. “Why wasn’t my heart there when I arrived?”

“Oh. That.” Atem blushed. “I’d taken it to keep it safe.”

Kaiba took a couple of slow breaths, with his eyes still shut, replaying Atem’s words in his head. Safe. It was a new concept. With sleep finally starting to slur his words, Kaiba said, “It took you long enough to bring it back.”

Atem smiled. “I’m sorry. I got lost along the way.”

“We both did,” Kaiba admitted quietly, his voice slowing to a low murmur.

Atem sighed and curled up next to Kaiba, as content as a cat dozing in the sun. “Maybe I couldn’t return it until you were ready to receive it at my hands. Because it’s not a gift. It’s a loan.” 

Kaiba snored in answer. Atem listened for a moment to the rumbling sounds. “I wish that going forward, every argument will be this easy to win,” Atem whispered. He took Kaiba’s hand and held it to his cheek. Atem snuggled closer, eager to be the first thing Kaiba saw when he woke up in the morning.

* * *

.

_**Thanks to Bnomiko for betaing this story!** _

**AUTHOR’S NOTE:** I’m about 6 weeks late for Pridecember, but like Atem, I lost my way and it took longer than I expected. This story was inspired by Rainstormcolors, who has posted and talked about Kaiba’s isolation, and especially about the idea that once Kaiba reached Atem, he might be too desperate to let go. I wanted to write a story that did justice to that concept. I also really love the communal nature of fandom and I wanted to do something to add to it. And the series of prompts for Pridecember: DESIRE, THRONE, POSSESSIVE, FRUSTRATION and finally, SWEET, seemed like mile markers for the story I wanted to tell.

As always, I also want to thank Bnomiko, who has made each story better, and (I admit I’m being selfish here) much more fun to write and talk about.

_Stay safe everyone!_

_I'd love to hear what you think, now that the story's ended!_


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